


Hanging by a Thread

by kasabee



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Challenge Response, DP Discord Server Challenge Fic, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, but not canon to what happens after that, canon to "D-Stabilized", the gray ghost is STRONGLY IMPLIED
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:29:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27791539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kasabee/pseuds/kasabee
Summary: The fabric woven from the ambitious tale of Valerie Gray's everyday life begins to unravel at the hand of Vlad Masters.
Relationships: Danny Fenton/Valerie Gray
Comments: 8
Kudos: 47
Collections: Danny Phantom Server Prompt (Nightmares)





	Hanging by a Thread

**Author's Note:**

> hey everybody, it's kas. it's honestly been a whale's age since i've been here, huh. i'd apologize for that but if you look outside your window and see all the shit that's been going on, there's no apology necessary, is there? i thought so. 
> 
> anywho, the danny phantom discord server i'm in was hosting a fic challenge and like the idiot i am, i decided to join. the prompt was "nightmares". this is the first time i'm writing for the phandom EVER and i love valerie (you can't sue me) so this was born. i'm confident that i managed to churn out something that relatively fits with the prompt but i'll let you be the judge of that though, heh heh. enjoy!

Valerie's nightmares always started this way.

Puppet strings are neatly tied around her arms and legs. She can't speak; her lips are welded shut. She can't move, her body's only motion being punctuated by the errant twitch of large gloved fingers belonging to the other ends of each string. 

Seafoam green eyes stare straight ahead, unseeing into the empty darkness. Her wooden joints creak in protest as she's dragged to and fro by an unknown puppeteer; her usual sunflower yellow ensemble replaced with the familiar yet unsettling cold of form-fitted ghost tech armor. Her helmet acts as a sound vacuum, nothing but white noise surrounding her. Though her mouth could not move, the young woman's breathing quickened, glassy eyes rolling in her head uselessly. How it was even possible was beyond her--she had no heart or lungs to speak of. 

The homey streets of Amity Park soon bled into the crevices previously occupied by empty space, the central plaza hosting a gaggle of people. From where she hung above them, she could barely distinguish one individual from another behind the crimson tint of her visor. They seemed to be crowding around something she couldn't see, murmurs and gasps arising from the cluster.

In unison, they all craned their necks to stare at her, a sudden hush resting over the once jittery group. White noise crashed into her yet again, a terrible feeling curdling deep within her stomach.

Valerie knows their gazes too, are blank. 

Identifiable faces were twisted rather strangely; frozen in horror and grief and outrage and _fear_. So much fear. It was present in the way they stood, in the way they sneered. Like a switch had been flipped, the curious atmosphere turned hostile. The townspeople banded together to create a makeshift barrier with their bodies, shielding the concealed being from her unflinching glare. 

At that exact moment, a realization dawned on her. _They were looking at her the same way they would size up a ghost_.

No one truly knew who the Red Huntress was, most likely labeling her as a run-of-the-mill wannabe ghost hunter, maybe in the same league as those Guys in White knuckleheads. She internally cringed at the thought. Nobody in their right minds would dare ally themselves with that crooked organization. But the citizens of Amity Park hadn’t seen much of her once she’d received her intimidating upgrades from that dumb tech ghost, becoming something much more dangerous. More lethal.

Against her will, dual shoulder cannons burst from her suit, taking aim. Valerie struggled to hear the rising panic over the powering-up whines of her weapons, followed by a vindictive, malicious laugh that sent sparks of recognition up her spine. 

_"And who knew Valerie was so easy to fool?...For a smart girl, she’s very easily led."_

Before she could finish her recollection, her body uncontrollably jerked forward. The teen stuttered and gasped through constricting airways, the whining reaching a fever pitch, indicating its readiness to fire upon the innocent townspeople. She'd never forgive herself if something were to happen to them...there had to be some way to break free!

Mind racing, Valerie tried yanking her restraints, but found that she still lacked any kind of autonomy whatsoever. Tears beaded in the corner of her eyes, on the verge of spilling over. Her face remained devoid of outward emotion, seemingly frigid and merciless to those down below. The haughty laughter increased in volume, satisfied at the sight of the ghost hunter being forced to watch the obliteration of the people she loved by her own unwilling hands. 

Her left cannon fired. The ecto-blast boomed out in the square.

Normally, this was where Valerie would rocket out of bed, face drenched in sweat, eyes wide and wet. She’d clutch her chest to slow her rapidly-beating heart, hair askew from the loss of her head tie and fervent tossing and turning over the course of the night. Slivers of moonlight would creep underneath her half-closed blinds, imprinting themselves on her assortment of posters and ghost-oriented notes. After calming down, her head sandwiched between her knees, both her heart and head would mourn for the frustrating unknown. Her hand would follow a routine, brushing across the twin-sized mattress and over the valleys of cotton sheets, unoccupied by a body she’s unabashedly yearned for since the middle of freshman year. 

‘ _How pathetic…_ ’ Her breathing would hitch, and she would burrow under the covers to mask her sobbing from the unfortunate verdict of an unforgiving world. 

This time, however, was different. The dream continued, bulldozing past the usual downer ending. Valerie opened her eyes, unaware that she had closed them to begin with. Smoke wafted upwards, obscuring her limited vision even further, but not for long. It seemed that the impromptu gunfire had done a good job clearing the area, an alarming number of stragglers poorly cowering behind lampposts and shrubbery. She could spot heads of varying shapes and sizes peeking out from behind makeshift hiding places. Valerie exhaled a deep sigh of relief before rolling her eyes.

Amity Park: a certified breeding ground for idiots. 

Without hesitation, the brunette hurtled closer to the ground, guided by her sinister taskmaster-- _Vlad Masters_ , she snarled, **_Plasmius_ **\--leaving her at the lip of an enormous asphalt crater. At its center laid a body, a boy approximately her age, curled into the fetal position. A snow white shock of hair caught her eye, accompanied by a familiar suit embodying a monochrome scheme of black and white accentuated by heavy wear and tear. Several cuts oozing ectoplasm littered his body, the boy trembling worryingly as if inhaling and exhaling was no different from a Herculean feat. 

In that very pit laid Danny Phantom, the ghost boy. Her sworn enemy in the flesh. Or spirit. Or whatever.

A handful of emotions washed over her simultaneously; bewilderment, terror, and denial warring against one another in the pit of her stomach and the acrid taste of bile on the tip of her tongue. Plasmius' hollering had quieted down to a dull roar, the man now snickering wickedly like an imitation vampire cat who'd just caught the teen ghost canary.

He persisted in his endeavor to draw out her suffering, keeping her positioned over the body of her fallen adversary. The promised air of accomplishment of a long-awaited defeat soured as the minutes passed. Pride? Joy? How could she show any merriment in this after all she'd learned, after all of the deceit that'd been thrown her way? Becoming aware of the existence of "halfas", helping Phantom free that ghost girl, Danielle, questioning everything she'd ever known about ghosts after that accidental eavesdropping session--being played like a fiddle by a man who seemed content--no, almost _delighted_ in using her as a pawn to achieve his own selfish and desperate goals, whatever those were.

Valerie spent the rest of that night pondering the weight of these revelations, pacing restlessly. Phantom and his stupid ghost dog ruined her life, that was a fact. And ever since then she's had to slave away to make ends meet, losing her friends, her free time, and her stellar academic record, being mercilessly teased by the same friends she lost. Maybe that was all for the best, considering the begrudging friendship she'd attained through Danny and his friends. Given the strikes against the ghostly vigilante, even she'd be a fool to deny the dynamic shifting between them once they teamed up to fight that Ghost King creep and save the town. Though she fostered an unyielding hatred of ghostkind for the longest time, she simply had to admit that for a ghost of his caliber, he expressed a profound fondness for the town. She could probably come up with a million and one excuses as to why he cared so much about Amity Park, but one conclusion pestered her the most. It was the hardest to swallow, and if it was true, she wouldn't be able to look at herself. 

Phantom began to stir below her, his breath stuttering as he fought to sit up. Wet wheezing punctuated his feeble efforts. He tenderly lifted his head, carefully twisting his broken body to face himself towards her general direction. His unnatural lime green eyes were almost entirely hidden behind his eyelids, presented to her as slivers. The ghost teen's face remained unreadable for the most part, disoriented beyond belief, oblivious to the figure in front of him. Valerie internally cringed at the sight of his relentless scrutiny, the boy obviously struggling to put two and two together. The urge to scream, to cry, to even beg for forgiveness arose within her--a concession unthinkable to the Valerie of the past. Phantom's jaw dropped once he finished surveying the situation, a disheartened whisper of "...Valerie?" disrupting the near silence. Though it remained physically impossible for her to speak, she floundered to respond. Hoping to convey her emotions through her eyes alone was a fool's endeavor, she realized a minute later when her wrist was drawn upwards by its thread, activating the corresponding cannon at Phantom's eye-level. The ghost boy's eyes grew wide as it whirred to life, pupils shrinking down to tiny pinpricks. Motivated by the turn of events, Plasmius yelled out in triumph, filling the silence only occupied by the crackle of yet-to-be-extinguished ecto-flames and the high-pitched flare of her artillery.

This would be the final blow. The end of all the terror, the strife, the countless sleepless nights. But a part of her conscious protested the wrongness of it all, the resurgence of that one idea rearing its ugly head within the recesses of her mind.

A bright flash blinded her momentarily, her eyes fluttering shut in reflex without her arms to shield her. The heavy breathing continued, whether it was his or hers, she couldn't quite tell. Defiance thrummed from within her bones, the overwhelming turmoil causing her arms to tremble. No matter how many times she'd prepared herself for this moment, nothing could have possibly prepared her for this. 

"Valerie, please…don't do this."

She's heard his voice somewhere before, she knows it. Heard it in the hallways during the break between biology and lunch period, smothered between techno geek jargon and the grumbled snark of moody teen angst. Felt it through every dream she's had since the day she fell from social grace to the night she watched an innocent ghost--an innocent _girl_ \--almost be slaughtered by the same man who created her. There was no way on earth she could forget a voice in that particular timbre, even laced with pain and hurt as much as it was.

One aqua-green eye pried itself open reluctantly, then the other. Tears blurred her vision, the young woman taken aback. Her worst fear sat down there in the bottom of the pit, cornflower blue eyes brimming with sorrow.

Danny Phantom, the ghost she had vowed to destroy, was Danny Fenton. Her beloved crush and ex-boyfriend.

If she could fall to her knees, she would. If she could run away and lock herself in her room forever, she would. All she had to do was wake up… because this wasn't real. This _had_ to be a figment of her overactive imagination; she'd had her mind on Phantom more lately since he'd laid the Ghost King to rest, back when she posed that gutsy challenge to Sam in her quest to win Danny's affection. Mustering the courage and actually dating Danny ended up being one of the best weeks of her life, tech-ghost-matchmaking-interference notwithstanding. The baseball game, the carnival, their initials up in lights. Despite all of that, her body grew warmer in his presence, admiration for him oozing out of her pore by pore. But that _damn Phantom_ \--

Valerie blinked herself out of her reverie, focusing her attention back on him and receiving that same piteous stare in return. Danielle and Danny...they were just like her. Used as a means to an end and carelessly tossed aside once they'd outlived their purpose. She clenched her fists.

Well. She was done with being someone's puppet. 

Teeth grit, she managed to yank her arm away, powered by sheer determination and adrenaline. The thread snapped, stopping Plasmius in his tracks and awarding her an awed stare from the boy below her. Her cannon fired automatically, the blast landing a ways away due to its trajectory being thrown wildly off-course. Danny's neck whipped towards the thunderous boom in shock, head quickly swiveling back to her. Her freed hand wasted no time snapping the thread hooked around her other arm and legs, unbridled anger etched into her features. She was done. Done with all of the lies, all of the unnecessary torment.

She pressed the button meant to withdraw her helmet into her suit, curls spilling out from where they had previously been pinned back. Not a word was spoken between them, as if the world had come to a standstill. At once, they both dove for each other, Valerie burying her head into the crook of his neck and Danny holding onto her for dear life. She could feel his arms tighten around her, meaningfully strong despite how weak and weary he looked. It was one of the many things that she loved about him. No matter how much life threw at him, he'd get up, turn the other cheek, and keep on fighting. His recklessness was also his most worrying trait, but she'd deal with that later.

"I'm so sorry, Danny. I-If I knew, I wouldn't've--I didn't mean to--" 

"Shh, Val, it's alright. It's gonna be okay. I'm here now."

It was brave of him to reassure her with all the cuts and bruises he'd accumulated. Taking him to the hospital should've been their first priority, and it was alarming how cold--yet warm?--his body temperature felt against her. But all those worries fell away as they held each other, both reluctant to let go so soon. It's been so long since they'd hung out, since they've unknowingly fought side by side. A piece of her that she was unaware she'd been missing began to mend as they both sat there, her openly bawling into his plain t-shirt and him brushing a hand through her thick dark locks and murmuring softly into her ears. She felt the warm sensation of chapped lips touch her forehead for the slightest of seconds before it disappeared. The teen girl whimpered softly at the loss of the feeling. 

Eventually, they pulled apart. She must've looked a mess; eyes red and puffy, face blotchy, nose snotty and running mucus, and her hair flying every which way. The way he looked at her said otherwise, his hand coming up to rest on her cheek and wipe away a few stray tears. She laughed weakly, closing her eyes and leaning into his palm. Silence continued, save for a couple stuffy sniffles and the still-burning fires spread throughout the square. There was no better feeling than staying in his arms, and she could honestly stay there all day. But she knew she had a job to do. She inhaled deeply and opened her eyes once more, molding her face into a determined scowl. 

Valerie summoned her hoverboard. Once she found the bastard, she'd kick him right in the family jewels. But she wouldn't stop there, _oh no_ . Karma's been knocking on the door of the _great_ and _powerful_ Vlad Masters for a long, long time. She hesitated before jetting off, making sure to get one last glimpse of Danny before she left. He nodded at her, mirroring her confidence.

"Give him hell, Val."

Her face softened for a couple seconds, an uncontrollable heat rising to her cheeks before she schooled her features into a stony grimace, speeding away once the sight had become too much to bear. 

This would be the last time that Valerie Gray would be made a fool of. She would make sure of that. 

She ended up waking up before the sun rose, the smallest hint of a smile on her face as she watched the last vestiges of the night blend into the soft pastel of the slowly rising sun from her windowsill. With the dawn of a new day came the newest opportunity to plot revenge. This time, on the biggest monster of them all. For herself, for the ghost boy she'd been crushing on for the better half of two years, and for the girl she's grateful to have given a second chance.

"Watch out, Vlad Masters, Vlad Plasmius, whoever the hell you are, because I'm coming for you. And by the time I'm done, you'll be begging for mercy. But don't think I'll give you any." She cackled, turning away from the window.

" **_Not a single shred_ **."

* * *

  
  


Valerie oozed swagger walking up the stairs of Casper High later that morning, a deadly smirk sending shivers down the spines of whoever she passed. On her way to her locker she passed by the "loser" trio, Foley and Manson ribbing one another as per usual. Danny stood between them, quietly smiling at his friends' antics while his eyes shifted back and forth between them playfully. Something possessed her to stop, the chatter ceasing as soon as the three noticed her in their vicinity. Manson sneered and Foley cringed, probably wishing he could be anywhere else in the world at that moment. Only Danny met her stare head-on, clearing his throat to rid them of the awkward silence.

"M-Morning, Valerie. How's it going?" His voice cracked on the final word of the question, causing the other three to snicker at his expense. She heard him mutter to himself, " _Nice work, champ, real smooth,_ " but pretended not to hear to spare him further embarrassment.

"Cool your jets, Fenton. I'm not gonna bite your head off." She didn't know whether to be insulted or humored at the sigh he gave her in response. "Everything's fine. Better, even. Thanks for asking."

"O-Oh! That's great! Awesome!" He tacked on a face-splitting grin, cold sweat dripping down his face. Geez, what did she do to this poor kid? Flashes of her dream imposed themselves onto him after the thought, sobering her good mood instantly.

"Listen, Fenton--I mean, _Danny_. There's something I've been meaning to talk to you about." The teen turned as a white as his t-shirt, gasping quietly like a goldfish out of water. Both Manson and Foley stood by the wayside, seeming visibly torn between getting the hell out of Dodge or grabbing buckets of popcorn. She rolled her eyes at the antics, smiling to herself. Never gets old.

"Don't sweat the small stuff, Danny. Just meet me after school, alright? I've got a feeling that you're _dying_ to hear what I have to say." The emphasis of that particular word wasn't lost on him. He froze in place, his pallor stuck halfway between ashen white and tomato red. God, she loved this; he was just too easy to mess with. Her shit-eating grin simmered down to a modest curve of her lips. There'd be more time for this later, she's sure.

"Gotta go or I'll be late. See you at 3 by that one tree in the yard?"

"Y-Yeah! Totally! See you then."

Valerie beamed at his bashfulness, resting a hand on his shoulder and giving it a tender pat. As she resumed the walk to her locker, she could catch Manson and Foley's rowdy teasing only matched by vehement denials in a similar volume.

Though she'd torn through the metaphysical threads that tethered her to the bidding of an evil mastermind, she still had a lot of work to do in the real world. And tying up loose ends with Fenton is obviously the first step; having him in her corner would be a major boon. But when hasn't he been? Helpfulness ran in his blood, she assumes.

' _Other than the time that dog trashed the the lab--_ ' 

Alright, so it seems the harbored grudge didn't completely disappear overnight, sue her.

She's working on it.

**Author's Note:**

> update (2/18/21): this fic now has [ art](https://hauntedozone.tumblr.com/post/643432068522655744/valeries-nightmares-always-started-this-way) thanks to one of my best friends [ aniura](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aniura), aka mozey! both her fanfics and her art are amazing, and you should go check 'em out. NOW. GO CHECK THEM OUT NOW


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